


yours

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Phil POV, possessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:39:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: Coulson gets a lesson in possession once he and Daisy return to the base after a short undercover operation.It was odd, in a way, to be the sole attention of something so equally reverent and possessive. And incredibly, blindingly, arousing.





	yours

**Author's Note:**

> I had an image of Daisy very seriously and fiercely saying “Mine.” to Coulson, and this is what happened.

“Don't think I didn't notice that bit of a territorial moment back there.” Coulson lightly joked after the others left the office, as he closed up the mission files on the big screen.

Daisy narrowed her eyes.

“That woman is a known black widow. Hell if I was gonna let her sink her teeth into you.” Daisy replied rather vehemently. “I'm your partner. I've got your back.” She added quickly, as if that somehow took away from the sudden depth she'd brought into the conversation. It didn't.

“I've handled my share of black widows,” He joked, quieting as Daisy didn't respond. “You're still bothered by her?” Coulson realized slowly, stopping next to her instead of continuing his path toward his desk.

“Mine.” Daisy informed him seriously, and he quirked his eyebrow at her.

“What?” He huffed out a nervous noise that wasn't quite a laugh.

“ _Mine_ ,” Daisy insisted even more firmly than before, gripping her fingers around his tie. He stumbled a bit, not expecting the movement, suddenly mere inches of space between them.

“Uh,”

“Mine,” She hissed against his chin, mouth and teeth pressing in a gesture that wasn't quite a kiss and wasn't quite a bite.

Whatever it was, it made every muscle in his body freeze.

She didn't pull back to gauge his expression; instead, she slid her mouth and teeth along his jaw, pausing at the curve beneath his ear.

“Mine.” Her breath whispered against the sensitive skin of his ear and just as suddenly he found himself trembling. Her hand gripped around his tie and tugged, more affectionate than demanding, and her lips dropped down his neck, just above the collar of his shirt. “Mine.”

He found her possessiveness over him heartwarming, but arousing even more so. Very, suddenly, quite arousing.

Daisy was - well, she wasn't technically kissing him. But still, this was definitely not platonic. Friends didn't do that thing with their teeth against other friend’s necks. Not in his experience, anyway.

And he was mildly ashamed to admit that it was shooting straight toward his groin. Was that her intention? How long has she felt this way? Was this really her, or had she somehow been drugged with something during the mission?

He refocused when he realized she was undoing the knot of his tie and prying open the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Daisy- ”

“Mine.” She mumbled against the hollow of his throat, and he closed his eyes as he stifled the rest of his warning from turning into a quiet groan. Her fingers curled along his ribs, just shy of painful, holding him still while she breathed against his skin. He hadn't noticed just how tense she'd been until he now felt her relaxing against him.

Then she pulled away completely, gauging him. He felt cold.

“Stay.” She ordered, narrowing her eyes slightly in warning, and he swallowed. He knew his chest was rising and falling noticeably quicker than normal, but his body didn't seem to want to listen to him anymore; reacting immediately to her words before he could even think about pretending to be unaffected.

She walked backwards toward the office door, watching him as she reached behind her and quietly shut the door. The snick of the lock seemed loud, and he swallowed again.

She approached him again but kept some distance between them this time, tilting her head as she looked him up and down. He was sure he was already looking half-debauched; the way his pulse raced and the back of his neck was warm with sweat.

She smiled softly, then, and he had no idea what to think of it.

Reaching for his hand, she squeezed it lightly, the gesture rather chaste compared to her previous actions.

“I didn't,” His throat was dry and he had to try again, “I didn't realize you were jealous.” He grinned a little, managing to put off a shy air instead of a haughty one. Her eyes narrowed again, though, not following his attempts to lighten the air in the room.

“I'm not jealous - I'm protecting what’s already mine.” She practically glared at him as she closed the distance between them, baring her teeth as if she could still see the way that other woman had so casually touched him. As if she'd had the right to.

Coulson looked at his partner incredulously. Since when had she staked a claim on him?

“Because you are, aren't you?” She wasn't really asking. “Mine.”

“I- ” He stopped. He didn't even want to argue with her. Of course she was right - he just hadn't put words to it. But she was right.

She pulled her hand free to open another button on his shirt and pushed the collar to the side, revealing the slope of his collarbone as she slid her palm against his skin. His heart hammered beneath her touch and she pressed her mouth against the jut of bone, sucking pressure against his skin that made him gasp in a loud breath. She nipped at him, and he immediately let his head fall to the side giving her the line of his neck. She smiled against his skin, approving, and immediately pointed her attentions toward it, noticeably gentling her kisses the higher up his neck she moved.

She was making sure the marks she was leaving would be hidden by the collar of his shirt. (It wouldn't with a tee-shirt, but few people ever saw him in tees. Anyway, he wasn't thinking about that at the moment.)

He breathed heavily through his nose, trying to keep calm and still. She was still agitated, maybe even angry, and he didn't want to do anything that would set her off. And if he was honest, he also didn't want to do anything that would make her stop, either.

She blindly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, grasping the fabric at his stomach and yanking it up out of his trousers. He hissed, fingers twitching with the automatic gesture to hold her, but he held his arms by his sides. Even as she removed her face from his neck and splayed her palms against his stomach, sliding them along every inch of his torso. Scraping her nails without being painful, but in a way he would remember her touch for days afterward.

He jumped when she didn't hesitate to rub the pads of her thumbs across his nipples. He didn't even have the chance to be hesitant over her perusal of his scarred and slightly aged body; she immediately gave the rest of him the same attention she'd given his jaw and neck.

By the time she'd knelt to press a kiss against the skin next to his belly button, his hands were trembling and he could feel his blood humming in his veins. He was warm, too warm, even with his shirt hanging open over his shoulders. Every inch of him that she touched tingled with…with something.

She looked up at him as her hands went for his belt, pulling it open slowly enough that he could stop her if he wanted to, but still without question. He looked down at her, watching breathlessly, mostly unmoving. His hips shifted as she tugged his belt from the loops of his trousers, revealing just how lax he was in her hands, and she smiled again.

“Daisy,” He breathed out when she unbuttoned his trousers, unsure whether he was halting her or encouraging her. She raised her eyebrow as she slid the zip down, and his blood pooled further south. She brushed the waistband out of the way, but forwent pushing his pants down to instead slide her hands beneath the fabric, gripping his hips firmly.

“Mine.” She told him seriously, and he couldn't quite tamp down the whimper that came from the back of his throat.

He was afraid he wouldn't be able to keep standing if she kept on…

The skin over his hip was soft, entirely too receptive to her hard kiss; all teeth and pressure with the intent of leaving another mark. He touched her hair because he was desperate to; the tips of his fingers barely carding through the strands. She hummed approvingly against his skin, so he reaffirmed his grip a little, pushing one hand fully into her hair.

She softened her kiss, her tongue soothing against his skin now, allowing him the moment to return some affection toward her. He had a lot of it, after all - and she was well aware of it, he knew by now - he was overwhelmed in so many ways.

And then she crouched lower, tugging his pants down with her, her hands gripping the backs of his thighs as she kissed the front of them, and his knees. His hands slipped free from her hair, hanging limply at his sides as if he'd forgotten how to use them.

It was odd, in a way, to be the sole attention of something so equally reverent and possessive. And incredibly, blindingly, arousing.

By the time his briefs joined his trousers round his ankles, he was hard and leaking, and panting through an open mouth as he watched her.

“Is this mine, too?” She asked, the first time she truly asked him something this entire - hell, how long have they been in here, now? His trailing thought immediately shuttered off when she scraped a nail along the length of his cock.

He grunted, twitching, fisting his hands tightly as he held off his orgasm. _That_  would have been embarrassing.

“Well?” She asked when he didn't answer, her hands shifting back to his thighs. She was close enough he could feel wisps of her breath against him, and it was agonizingly amazing.

“Yes.” He finally answered, gritting his teeth to keep from moaning, and she quirked her eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure? I want you to be sure, because,”

“Fuck, Daisy, I'm sure.” He interrupted, knowing she was only sounding cheeky because she was being so serious about it. “I'm yours. Every part of me. All of me. I'm yours.”

She gripped his arm to steady herself as she stood, immediately then sliding both hands around the back of his neck and kissing his mouth deeply.

He closed his eyes and kissed her back with everything he had left, paying reverence to her mouth the way she had his entire body. (Well, almost his entire body. And it was _her_  fault he couldn't stop thinking about that, even while the heat of her mouth felt so glorious against his own.)

“Mine,” She sighed happily into his mouth, sounding relieved now, smiling widely. He smiled as well, and then one of her hands dropped down between his legs, fingers curling firmly around his erection.

He grunted as she fisted him, and had to close his eyes again when she knelt once more, mentally running through random baseball stats as he tried not to come as soon as she put her mouth on him.

She didn't hesitate much as she explored the rest of his body; only pausing enough to gauge what he liked and what he didn't like. Hell, he was liking everything she did. She could do anything to him and he would welcome it entirely.

But especially…

“Daisy,” He growled shakily when she fondled him, barely managing to keep his knees from buckling as he could feel his orgasm quickly approaching. Her teeth just barely touching his sensitive skin was damn near electric, and his nails were digging into his palms with the effort not to grasp her head.

She squeezed him firmly, all of a sudden, and he whined unabashedly. He wanted - he _needed_  - to come.

“Wait.” She ordered him, not letting go as she stood straight again, and he gripped his bottom lip between his teeth, hard enough for the sharp sting of pain to clear his head a little. She released him, then, his groin uncomfortably heavy at this point, and he groaned quietly. “I want to tell you something.”

“Now?!”

“Yes, now.” She replied, pushing his shirt fully off of his body. He let her, helping by shrugging out of it, watching incredulously as she tossed it onto the edge of his desk. She then pressed both of her hands flat against his chest, staring into his eyes for a long moment.

“Daisy,” He whined, shifting his feet. He could barely think straight.

“I'm yours, too.” She told him. “Every part of me. All of me.”

He reached up and cradled her head between his hands, kissing her deeply. And then he reached down, still kissing her, and tugged at the hem of her polo, lifting it until they had to break apart so she could raise her arms above her head and remove the shirt entirely. He tossed it blindly behind him, aiming for his desk but not caring where it landed, kissing her again as the two of them worked quickly at the rest of her clothes.

He kicked off his shoes and pants, hopping as he almost lost his balance but immediately reaching for her again as soon as they were both naked.

Glancing toward his desk, it was covered in too much crap for him to… but there was no way he'd be able to hold her up himself, in the state that he was in… well, the conference table was clear…

He pressed his body against hers and tried to ignore the way everything seemed to burst with light at the contact, and guided her back until she bumped into the edge of the table. She hopped up onto the edge immediately, widening her knees so he could step between them, curling her arms around his shoulders and tugging him close again. Not that they'd parted much, anyhow; he was shaking again as he darted his fingers over all the new skin revealed to him.

She was reaching for him and pulling him inside of her before he could explore too much, both of them gasping at this new closeness, and Coulson knew immediately and clearly that he would never _not_  be hers.

He dropped his forehead against hers, overwhelmed, and she trailed her fingers through his hair against the back of his head. She then rocked her hips in encouragement, and he began to move in earnest because he was ready to explode ages ago.

He was surprised when only a few thrusts later she was biting into his shoulder, moaning his name, moaning _Phil_.

“Fuck,” He growled deeply, gritting his teeth. “Fuck- Daisy,” It hit him hard, and he couldn't keep his groaning very quiet as he rode it out, both of them still shifting their hands all over one another as if they couldn't decide where they wanted to touch more. In the moment, it seemed never ending, and instead of pulling out as he would have normally, he kept thrusting, grinding his pelvis urgently against hers.

She was whining, now; whining like he had earlier, and begging him not to stop. He knew he would inevitably start softening soon so he did his best to get her off once more before it happened. If he was a younger man, the sounds she was making would probably have made him hard again anyway, but as it was, he pressed his thumb between them and rubbed her until her legs tightened almost painfully around his waist.

He kissed her as soon as her mouth parted, drinking in her moan as her muscles jerked against him, her fingers vise-like around his lower arms.

Well, that would probably leave a mark.

She sagged back along the desk, and he on top of her, lightly mouthing her neck as they both tried to land back on earth. He was already beginning to feel the best kind of ache, and knew he would probably find numerous bruises and love-bites on his skin tomorrow morning. He grinned widely, and chuckled.

“What?” She wondered breathlessly, her fingers lazy in his hair.

“I won't be able to cover some of these.” He told her, holding himself above her with his hands on the table near her shoulders.

“Oops.” She blinked up at him, not sorry at all. He wasn't either.

“Mine.” He proclaimed with a smile, leaning down to kiss her again, and she laughed against his lips, mildly embarrassed at herself but entirely too sated to really care.

* * *

 


End file.
